Haka
by Liez
Summary: They were the faceless Haka Assassins, infamous for their deadly skill. Would skill alone be enough to kill a king, and escape an emotion like love? MakiSen/RuKo. Updated 29/5/02 [Epilogue up][Completed]
1. Author's Note

*Updated 16/5/02*

Author's Note

I want to say thanks to all those who took time and effort to review this, as well as those who are still following this despite the ridiculously long time that I'm taking to get it done. Your reviews help me along a lot, especially when I sometimes feel like just packing this up and taking it down. I've taken this up again as my sole project now that I've finished my other fictions, so the chapters will (hopefully) be turned out at a somewhat more reliable pace. 

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This was a short AU that I wanted to try writing in a slightly different style. Less descriptions, more words and actions. Apparently I didn't quite succeed, because this whole thing is being infused with descriptive imagery and long drawn-out plots despite my attempts to keep it free of the above-mentioned. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Nothing but the story belongs to me.

Rights: Please do not plagiarize/reproduce/post any of my works without my permission. Thank you.


	2. Prologue

Prologue

The tall, imposing man who swept across the room with a litany of attendants falling to his sides walked straight to the two hooded figures kneeling at the far end of the room. With a sweep of his hand, the attendants bowed low and then backed unobtrusively out of the way as he continue forward alone, before curtly nodding to the visitors and walking past them to seat himself in the high-backed, elegant black rosewood chair.

"My lord," the shorter of the two men before him rose and bowed, taking an almost unnoticeable step in front of the taller. He was the more experienced of the two, the older. "My lord," the other man stood and bowed as well.

He surveyed the two of them, and what he saw did not displease him. Well-trained, seasoned and well taught, both. He liked his men this way, and these two were near the top of the hierarchy of his private army. From his own other sources, he knew they had already made a name for themselves within their ranks, and were known among the common people more infamously as the Haka Assassins. 

"You know that with King Anzai's death, the country is now very much shaken up politically," he started harshly, not bothering to acknowledge their greeting. "The prince is young and inexperienced. Few out there would trust him to rule, yet he holds the strongest claim to the throne. There are many others more befitting to take his place."

He looked at them, his stare piercing and cold. "I trust you, as loyal men of the Archduke, know what must be done."

They backed out of the room, silently and without word, as soon as he waved a hand. _Don't let me down, Kogure, Sendoh._ He rose and walked to the balcony, closing the curtains as a cold draft blew, brushing a stray lock of his bright red hair away from his face.


	3. Chapter One

Chapter One

The young man stood rigidly before the Royal Throne in the empty main hall, his hands hanging limply by his sides as he sank to one knee and bowed his head.

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Father…what would you have me do? So much trouble has come with your passing, and I, whom you have nurtured, feel helpless to act. Yet I know it must not be so.

The Coronation will be done in three days, Father. Watch over me.

With that, Crown Prince Rukawa stood, his gaze fixed far away on a memory of long ago, where a small boy roamed in the lush green meadows of the Imperial Garden, and a king watching his son, laughing in the shaded doorway of the palace. Then he turned and left.

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The captain of the Prince's Guard stood at a respectable distance, watching the young man he had sworn to serve. The prince walked with his head held high, his steps regal and betraying none of the internal turmoil Maki knew he was going through. The prince had been exceptionally close to the king, for the queen had passed on when the boy was a young age, and the only family he had ever known was his father. 

Maki remembered how, eleven years ago, he had come to the courtyard of the palace with his mother, then a kitchen maid. He remembered watching the king, then newly crowned, practicing his sword craft in the deep of the garden one summer night. The young boy he had been then, only nine, had been discovered by King Anzai when he had backed away and tripped over a twig.

*Flashback

The king walked over to the young boy and knelt in front of him, the clear edges of his sword glittering dangerously in the moonlight. However, his smile was kind, his eyes gentle. Instinctively, Maki stopped being afraid.

"Do you like to fight?" the king asked.

Mute, he nodded furiously. He knew however, that he would never be one of the noble-bred, trained warriors. He was from a peasant family. His destiny was to serve in the fields of the people. Yet knowledge could not quite quench the excitement and dream of a child.

The king had rose, smiling at him, his eyes shaded slightly as a cloud drifted over the moon and hung there in the windless night. "What is your name?"

He stared up at the figure towering over him as the king sheathed the sword and brushed his robes. "Maki."

"Maki," the king repeated, reaching out to put a hand on the boy's shoulder, steering him back towards the lights of the palace. "Yes, well. I will send to you shortly."

*End of Flashback

That had been the start of his career. With the king's personal favor and his own noticeable talent, he had trained under the best of the teachers, learnt quickly, and had advanced himself in rank by the end of three years. He had joined the Prince's Guard when the future heir was a mere five years old, and he himself at the young age of twelve. And now, eight years later, he was captain, sworn to his liege.

Now, his eyes fixed on the figure retreating to the royal chambers, his own determination was at its strongest.

_Your father gave me a chance at the kind of life I wanted, Your Highness. I will protect you, if only for his memory._

Suddenly, a dark shadow flitting across the very corner of his vision made him spin, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. The night was peaceful, quiet, yet there was a whispering danger in the darkness. Maki knew there were many out there who were eager to take this opportunity to murder the prince, and usurp the throne. He began running towards the prince's chambers.


	4. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The older man swore mentally as the tall, brown-haired man began to move towards the target. Behind, the guards that had compelled them to move and change their hiding place passed, chatting animatedly, their voices disappearing even as he listened. Beside him, Sendoh's breathing was still and low, controlled with years of practice. The taller man turned to him, and nodded, before rising noiselessly and melding with the darkness even as he raced against the other man running for the prince. He knew what Sendoh was doing, and he knew what his job would be. He paused, closing his eyes, and then flashing them open in instinct as he began to move in on the territory of the hunted.

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_Go, Kogure. I'll take care of the rest._

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Maki turned the corner as adrenaline coursed through his blood, and stopped just short of a long, slim metal spike that was leveled at his throat. A drop of blood where it had broken flesh gleamed crimson on his neck, and trickled down his body as he stared back at the enemy.

Clothed entirely in black, even to the thin veil that covered his face, the intruder's lips curved into a mirthless smile. Above the veil, his eyes flashed cold blue. He was tall and lean, and the hand that grasped the deadly weapon was steady. His breathing was checked, and his posture almost casual. Maki knew an opponent when he saw one.

"You won't get to the prince," he spat out, his hand unsheathing his sword swiftly as he took up a fighting position. The intruder inclined his head and raised an eyebrow, as his other hand snaked to his side and loosened the chain around it. Too late, Maki recognized the symbol of the intertwined dragons, their horns and tail flashing deadly spikes as the intruder began a slow, deliberate twisting of the chain whip in perfect sync with the flashing sword, the complete mastery of an unorthodox style.

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Haka. He's a Haka Assassin.

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_Found you._

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Rukawa felt a cold uneasiness creep up over his veins even as he slipped on the night robe. Perhaps it was the cool wind that whispered through the translucent curtains, and he walked over to the balcony to shut the windows.

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He lashed out.

The assassin slipped out of his range easily, with a grace that belied the death he wielded in his gloved hands. Circling around him, Maki sensed more than saw as the chain flew his way and he ducked barely in time, the cold metal whistling past his cheek and cutting shallowly. The blood streaked down his face as he charged forward, not giving the enemy time to recollect the chain. Grabbing it with his hand, his mind screaming at the pain as the spikes sunk deep into his flesh, he jerked on it roughly, pulling the man closer and raising his sword. 

Not breaking the dance, the assassin released the edge of the chain that was bound to his belt, stepping back deftly just as the steel flashed down in front of his face. His robes had fallen open with the ripping of his belt, and Maki glimpsed a pale chest, tattooed with the symbol of the Dragon, just as his gaze traveled upwards and a thin piece of cloth flitted away onto the ground.

The veil had been sliced open. And Maki found himself looking straight into the face of one half of the elusive fighters known only for the terror and bloodshed they wrought.

He was fair, with delicate features, a straight nose and full, almost girlish lips, a high brow, and defined cheekbones. The eyes that stared back at him challengingly were no longer cold, but intense determination and narrow calculation radiated from their dark blue depths. And then he was gone.


	5. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

As he walked over to the floor length windows, he slipped behind the curtains, reaching out for the embossed handles to close them. And when he turned, he stopped, his heart pounding furiously as all strength left his hands.

There, in front of him, pointed straight between his eyes, was the sharp point of cold steel. 

His chest heaving with shallow gasps, he looked past the blade to the expressionless, veiled face, where dark obsidian swirling in depths of hazy brown eyes froze him to the spot with the clear strength of will visible in them.

And perhaps it was the memory of his father, the latter's strength and courage, that made him do what he did, though the remote chance of surviving that action was close to nothing. He threw himself to the side as the sword flashed past his ear with his sudden movement, nicking a few strands of hair and sending them floating to the ground. And he screamed.

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_The prince!_ Maki snapped out of his trance and raced towards the direction of the scream. Panting slightly with the exertion, he raised his hand and irritably wiped the thin trickle of blood that he tasted in his mouth from the cut on his cheek, and then slammed the door to the prince's chamber open just as a sword flashed in the moonlight outside, on the balcony. And without hesitating, he pulled back his arm and opened his palm, clasping the set of poisoned darts that fell into his hand from the compartments of his wrist guards loosely. Then he hurled it towards the silhouette of the hooded figure.

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Kogure spun around on sheer instinct and turned just as another body slammed into him from the side. _Sendoh!_ Darts whistled past overhead as Kogure collected himself, and then sheathed his sword, before spinning and leaping over the side of the rail, his arm tight about his partner's waist. They landed in the soft grass below. Already, horns were trumpeting and echoing about them, and there were shouts and orders being barked. They had to get out of there.

"Sendoh?" he whispered harshly, shaking the other man, before his fingers encountered a dark, sticky liquid that was pooling on his hands. Cursing under his breath, his hands traced fully the body of the half-conscious man before him, before his left hand felt the dart on Sendoh's right forearm. There it was, hidden beneath the folds of the outer cloak. 

His hands worked swiftly as he pulled the dart out, tearing the sleeve from shoulder to wrist, spotting the wound almost immediately. It was dark purple at the site of entry, and already a green pallor was forming around it. Bending his head, he put his lips to the broken skin and began to suck the poison out. It tasted vile in his mouth, and it stung. Spitting out what he had managed to remove, he set the other man down and looked him over quickly.

The damage had been done. But he wasn't going to lose a friend and partner over something like this.

Pulling Sendoh into a firm embrace, he rose and scanned quickly for guards, his senses straining. They were approaching. He moved to the cover of the huge trees, to the edge of the compound, and with one hand, jumped up and grasped the ledge, pulling himself over and taking care to ensure that Sendoh would not be jolted, setting him down softly on the ground. It was dark at this part, and it wouldn't be day for another few hours. He had only so much time.

_Wait here for me, Sendoh,_ he commanded fiercely as he rose and looked at the lighted balcony. _I won't let you die._


	6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"Your Highness, are you all right?" Maki hurried over, where the young prince was curled up on the ground, silent. "Your Highness!"

"Go away," the words came out as a hoarse order, but Maki knew better than to leave at that moment. He remained a distance from the prince, but spoke determinedly. "I can't, Your Highness. The assassins are still out there, on the loose. They might come back for you."

Only later did it occur to him how foolish it was, mobilizing the army to search the entire compounds and yet not posting any men in the prince's chamber right after the attack. He had assumed that the assassins would be on the run by then, far and away, at least from the scene. The magnitude of his error only hit him when suddenly, where there hadn't been a shadow behind the billowing curtains, there was. He saw the flare of fear in the prince's eyes as an arm wrapped about his chest, and a slim dagger was pressed suddenly to his throat.

It wasn't the same man, Maki was sure of it. Not that it changed anything, except everything. This time, he couldn't attack. The assailant was slim; his entire body was shielded by that of the prince's.

"Don't do anything you'll regret," the assassin said in a low voice.

He was certain that the assassin was smart. If he tried in any way to call for help, the heir to the throne would be dead before he could lift his hand, which was injured for that matter. "What do you want?"

"The medicine for your poisoned darts."

He stared in shock. So the second figure he thought he had imagined was real after all. He reprimanded himself sharply for being surprised. The Haka Assassins were a pair, after all. After escaping from him, surely that first one had gone to help his partner. And if the one in front of him was alive and well…then the other must have been hit. The thoughts raced through his head as he stood there, unmoving.

"Why should I? If you kill the prince after I give the medicine to you, where would my purpose lie, then?"

Cold eyes the color of mahogany narrowed at him. "I won't."

"I don't believe you."

"That is none of my concern. Now…" the menace in the nuances of that voice was clear enough. There would be no room for error here. He reached for the ribbon on the wrist guard of his left hand, untying the knot and pulling open the compartment there, his fingers seeking the small vial of clear liquid.

"Don't play games with me, Captain. If he dies, your people will suffer."

The threat came from one who Maki knew was perfectly capable of carrying out his word. He stepped closer and threw the vial into the air. Smoothly, a hand reached out and plucked it as it descended, and then as quickly as he had appeared, the assassin was gone, and all that was left was the howling gale that rustled the leaves of the trees outside.

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Rukawa closed his eyes, but in his mind he could still picture the eyes of the assassin, and more troubling, the feel of his gloved touch. He could feel himself beginning to tremble, from fatigue and something more.

It wasn't just the fact that someone had tried to murder him. In his years, how many warriors had he seen that were so skilled, so quietly deadly? As a prince, his duty lay not in sword craft or weaponry, but in literature and strategy. Yet he recognized mastery when he saw it.

It had been the confidence, the surety that nothing would stand between him and his goal, the supreme certainty that he would get what he wanted. And he had. For as much as Maki could deny it, Rukawa had seen the moment of terror in his eyes, that one second when the blade had been pressed against his throat. And he envied the assassin, for that fear of death that he could inspire by his mere movements of fluid grace that was incongruous if one stopped to think of what he did with that talent.


	7. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

It was the day of the Coronation. The afternoon sun blazed down upon the streets and the marketplace. It was stifling, to say the least, even where he stood, on the high balcony of the tower which overlooked the city. Maki smoothed down his stiff, starched collar as he scanned the crowd, his hands hanging guardedly by his sides.

As the day wore on however, the humidity grew too sluggish to bear. Finally, when the central bell chimed the mid-afternoon in the heart of the palace, in turn ringing the other smaller, connected bells that wound around the palace, the noise died down, as all eyes turned towards the tower. And as the slim, erect figure moved into view, hushed murmurs spread through the crowd like wildfire. 

"That's the crown prince!"

"He looks too young to rule!"

"Would be hard to try and live up to the king's legacy, that one."

Yet, despite all misgivings, a mighty cheer rose from the people as the High Priest held the jeweled crown high in the air, letting the sun's rays sparkle on the gems that the gold gleamed and shone in its splendor. And when he placed it on the crown prince's head, the yells rose to rapturous shouts of fealty. For he was their king now.

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From the shade of a small, sheltered store, two figures, one clothed in the brightly-spotted scarves of the peasant women and the other in a simple black tunic, turned and began walking away. They walked to the end of that street, and then turned a sharp corner, walking casually to any who might choose to observe them, and finally stopping by a sparsely frequented tavern, stepping over the threshold and entering into the cool shadows. 

"You look beautiful this way."

He saw his partner's eyes crinkle up in a quick flash of a smile, before the expression rearranged itself to the unsmiling mask that was normally worn, barely visible under the cotton scarf wrapped about the head to conceal the identity of the one whom sought it. "Thank you, Kiminobu. Don't get interested already."

Kogure laughed and shook his head. They sat there chatting and drinking tea like old friends, as indeed they were. Outside, the sun crawled to rest, her orange rays darkening the sky like drops of crimson paint on the cloudless canvas of the sky.

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It was a surprisingly cool evening. The palace gates were open, and the imperial garden was lighted with candles and scented with fresh flowers. The peasants came and sang as they went, while the more important merchants and traders took their right and entered the outer court of the palace. It was a night of celebration after mourning, a night of cheer and laughter and music.

In the inner courts however, the captain of the Prince's Guard, despite the new monarch's silent commands to go and enjoy himself this festival night, couldn't quite bring himself to relax. Yet surely if the Haka Assassins had wanted to make their move, they would have made it already? Surely they would not have waited for Prince Rukawa to be crowned.

Glaring at him in mild frustration, the prince stalked out of his line of vision, weaving in between his new fellowship with his wine goblet held high and a polite smile on his face. Maki made to follow, when a tall figure turned to face him, blocking his way.


	8. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

It was a peasant woman, clothed in the custom of that class, with long brown skirts of scrubbed cotton covering her to her ankles and a simple white blouse, loosely exposing one shoulder and skin paler than the average farmer's wife. She was barefoot, and her face was hidden in the tradition of a blue scarf twined and tucked about her lower face and forehead, so that Maki could see only one sweat-soaked lock of ebony hair plastered to the side of the startled eyes. There was no way he could have come into contact with a woman of that rank in his life as a soldier, and yet a nagging thought in the back of his mind argued that her grace was familiar.

"My lord," she bowed low to the ground, grabbing her skirts in long-fingered hands and falling to her knees. Her voice was husky, low, almost like that of the gypsies, and trembling slightly. "Forgive an ignorant girl. I did not mean to block you. Please don't punish me—"

What was it about her? He cleared the random thoughts from his mind swiftly and bent to help her up. As his fingers encountered the bare flesh on her arms, she cringed and pulled away. He stared at her in bemusement, but she kept her eyes lowered on the ground, the long lashes falling against the dusky kohl that the common women used to enhance their eyes. On a festival night such as this, it was a long-held to, traditional luxury.

"Nobody's going to punish you. I won't hurt you, I promise."

She began backing away from him, but he reached out and caught her arm before she could disappear into the milling crowd. He didn't know why he was doing this, but the woman before him held a compelling attraction for him. He desired suddenly to see the face concealed beneath the layers of the headscarf, and was immediately ashamed of his forward thoughts. "Please don't go."

The drums began to start, a beat of tribal rhythm and long, drawn-out wails that accompanied the rush of people to the open lawn, where women laughed and men clapped their hands, calling to the womenfolk to join them in this native dance. Maki looked down at the bowed head before him, and then realized that he had been unconsciously grasping the pale arm more tightly than he intended. He released her with a cough.

"I apologize for my rudeness."

He thought he could detect the hint of a smile in the curve of her downcast eyes, and was unreasonably attracted by it. "Would you like to dance?"

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Kogure watched silently, his presence only a whisper on the wind as the captain of the Prince's Guard stopped following the prince. Out of all the fools in the palace, only one such as this could challenge his skill. It was safer this way. 

He rose from his crouch and pulled on the black veil, tying it securely behind his head. _This is our last chance, Sendoh. Keep the captain away till I finish the job._

He moved swiftly to the side gardens that surrounded the inner courts, his eyes scanning and finding the ledge almost immediately. Reaching it, he crouched low and then leapt effortlessly, quietly up, walking the length of the narrow wall and then jumping off the end of it, his arms moving overhead and grasping the very edge of the sill. He swung there for a few moments more, and then hauled himself up, stabilizing himself on the tiny window ledge as his hand snaked to the leather case strapped to his back, and removed a slim bow intricately engraved with his mark. Then he looked down.

Far away, surrounded by courtiers and guards, the prince stood, sipping his drink, unaware of the arrow aimed for his throat.


	9. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

They walked in a small circle, clapped, and then spun and twisted past each other as the music thrummed into the ground. Yet the noise seemed strangely blocked out as Maki moved, the scabbard of his sword knocking slightly against his leg as he spun again, then clapped, his gaze fixed on the bowed head of the tall woman before him.

For a peasant, she danced remarkably well. There was fluidness about her movements, a carefree confidence of spirit and fire as she turned and clapped in time with him. Her presence alone suddenly seemed to make the fires in the night burn brighter around them, larger, the flames leaping higher. Something about her caught his eye though. Her right arm was injured. He wondered briefly about it.

And then the inner court erupted.

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The arrow, loosened, whistled through the air just as the prince moved forward to place his drink down on the table. Silent speed caught the new king in the shoulder and pinned him forcefully to the wall as he turned back. Screams and shouts rose to a tumultuous crescendo as the mob began to shove, push and force their way out.

The prince disappeared from view, but from where he stood he could see the soldiers coming in, all the members of the elite Prince's Guard. He would have to leave before the captain discovered them. With a silent snarl, Kogure leapt off the sill and retreated.

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_It's him, I know it's him,_ Rukawa's heart was pounding furiously as the world seemed to swoop and dive before his eyes. The crimson that was pooling around him, the shouts that surrounded him, the deafening noise as the shrieks increased in intensity, seemed distant and muffled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow detach itself from the ceiling window at the far end of the room, before disappearing into the night.

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As the mob stampeded thoughtlessly into the garden, Maki whirled around, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. _Something's happened! I knew it! I should never have left the king alone!_

He fought against the rush of people as they swarmed past him, his heart constricting as he was pushed further, back, away from his goal. With a last determined growl, he swept past the thinning crowd and crossed the high threshold of the inner court.

The king lay on the ground, where a tableau of blood and riches framed him. The crown sparkled coldly in the candlelight, and the face beneath it was waxen pale. Maki forced his way past the rest of the guards and knelt on the ground.

"My liege," he choked out. Relief sang through him as sharply as a blade when the monarch blinked, then reached out. He caught the hand in a respectful bow, all the while his heart screaming at his own ineptitude. 

"Get…me…a healer…will you…Maki? These…these people…" a soft laugh, bubbling with fresh blood over pale lips, "…are too…busy…staring…at…me… thinking…I'm going…to…die…"

Was he trying to crack a joke? It wasn't funny! 

"Get a healer!" he shouted, his arms going around the slim body of the young king and lifting him up whole like a baby. "Now!"


	10. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

In the dark of the clearing, they stumbled out from opposite ends, before pausing and looking grimly at each other. The taller of the two turned abruptly and shed the long skirts and blouse, pulling off the headscarf easily and tossing it into the gurgling stream by the side. Underneath, the pale black tunic with the emblem of a dragon belting the loose robe gleamed in the moonlight, reflecting off the silver spikes that hung off the chain twined casually about the slim waist. 

"You did well," Kogure spoke first, his voice soft. Sendoh stilled and remained silent.

_I am the one…I failed._

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The appearance of the two was unusual, to say the least. However, they were of the sort who worked in partnerships within the secret army he nurtured. These two were a rare couple, and virtually unknown, for theirs was a way of subtlety and cunning. The older of the two was a powerful magic master, Mitsui, one of the few necromancers who came under the race of the advancing evolution of the Faerie salamanders. The shorter, more unique of the two, was Ryota of the were-kin, his honed talent being that of shape-shifting, a chameleon ability that made his hunting a legend among those who knew enough of myths. They stood there, one hooded, the other's pale blue skin glistening with scales in the opal light, silent and waiting.

The Archduke rose from the enormous, carved chair.

"You will do what is expected of you, unlike the ones who have failed me once and again. I trust you will use your…resources, to the utmost of your considerable abilities."

Before him, the two men bowed.

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"The king will be all right," the old healer announced in a gravelly voice as soon as he had exited the royal chambers where Rukawa was resting. "An infusion of herbs and this powder of the crushed snow fruit here will rend him new like before in a matter of one seven-day."

Maki watched the stooped healer scuttle away down the hall, then leaned against the wall. His relief at the king's wellbeing was endless, and yet for the first time in his life perhaps, it was not what troubled him more than anything did.

In his mind's eye, he kept seeing the mysterious peasant woman of a cool summer evening, clapping with her half-smiles barely visible in the glow of the moon, her skirts sweeping the tendrils of grass that bowed at her bare feet.

_Who are you?_ he asked silently, as his wrist guards scraped the edge of his sleeves. He pulled them out and straightened them, but his thoughts refused to be deterred. _Why do I feel as if I have known you, and yet know nothing even of your name?_

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In his dreams, he tossed and turned in restlessness, his shoulder stinging from the medicine that had been applied.

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Rukawa rose, as if in slow motion, turned, and saw the gaze of dark cinnamon eyes leveled at him with the point of a sword. It was happening, all over again. But he wasn't afraid. 

And somehow, that realization didn't come as a surprise.


	11. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

They sat in the lotus position, back to back, regulating their breathing. In the night, every sound seemed magnified, every tiny movement of the universe's living beings echoed off the surroundings and returned to their heightened awareness with something akin to a wave. It seemed peaceful. Beside their meditation spot, the stream gurgled happily. In the dark, the wind picked up, rustling the fallen leaves of brown and red and gold, whipping them up into a painful maelstrom that clawed at their closed eyes and their skin. 

Suddenly, it stopped.

_They're here._

And as though they had heard their thoughts, they appeared, on the very edge of the far end of the clearing, slightly above them on the hill, looking down. Watching them. There were two shadows there, one long and its aura blending with the darkness, and one short and flickering _into_ the blackness. But before Kogure could assess any further, the attack began, and he could dwell no more on his thoughts.

A mental burst, shaped like a flaming spear, slammed into his trained defenses and he bit his lip hard and fought it. The rhythm at which it pounded relentlessly into his mind was beginning to wear down his will, as dizziness pulsed into him like a wave of nausea. Dimly, he was aware that the enemy was no longer on the hill, but had disappeared into the shadows of the trees, approaching them, coming closer, closer…

A sudden weight onto his back made him spin, as the world dipped and twisted. Sendoh was being attacked.

This being was like no other he had ever seen. Slim, of medium height, was a beast that looked like a man, covered with a shimmering blue light that transcended the scales on his hands and bare feet. Canines that gleamed almost luminescent in the darkness were dripping with dark liquid as the creature lunged forward again. Sendoh twisted, and the teeth sank into his shoulder. As the taller man turned, Kogure caught the expression in his eyes. There was stubborn determination there, even as the loss of blood and the pain clouded the blue irises. 

"Go."

That one single word was uttered with gritted finality. Kogure's eyes hardened. "No. We are partners. I've never left you to die, and I won't now." His voice cracked slightly. He was losing the mental fight with the other being who still stood hidden in the dappling silhouettes. There was a crushing pressure now, forcing his resistance back, slowly but surely, pushing his mind over the boundaries of sanity… In the recesses of his mind, at the corner of his vision, he saw a long claw, thrust into the moonlight, watched as it sliced downwards, deep into the gut of the other assassin. Yet there was no sound. They were too well trained for that. He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, raising his eyes with effort as the pain tore his awareness apart. And then he saw, bloodshot eyes, staring at him, obstinate even in impending death. 

"Go." Sendoh hissed. Bubbles of blood broke on his lips and cascaded down his chin in gruesome rivulets as the creature ravaged his body with snarls of bloodlust. 

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You told me once, a long time ago, when we first became partners, when you first started training me. You said death was never a choice. I can't agree with that, Kogure. Given the chance…I'd choose to live. You still have that chance…


	12. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Fresh fury numbed the blinding pain for a moment, as he saw the light flicker in Sendoh's eyes. _You are a friend. Perhaps my only friend._

He gritted his teeth and let his hands drop to his sides as he rose, stumbling, and glared with hate across the clearing where the mysterious mage still stood. He realized dimly that his cloak was stained with blood. Sendoh's blood. He turned slightly, ignoring the excruciating agony that threatened to rip him apart, holding it at bay by sheer will. And he saw, with torture-clouded eyes, the slim pale hands reach for the signature chain whip of the Haka Assassins.

@@@

_I'm not going down without a fight,_ Sendoh hissed as he raised a fist and wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth. The were-shifter had fed off the terrible aches of its bloodlust, and chose now to circle him, taunting him. It only served to make his ebbing blood boil. 

He staggered as his vision dipped, but he struggled fiercely, moving with indomitable spirit as his other hand, slippery with the dark red liquid that trickled down his body, reached for the slim sheath that cased his sword. _I won't go that easily._

@@@

Mixed emotions filtered through the mental blocks as Kogure watched, only barely aware. The pain was growing steadily, but the message in Sendoh's eyes as the latter turned and glared at him for that one split second was clear enough.

_Don't give up, Kogure._

He turned his concentration inward, regulating his breathing, slamming up the shields he had been too panicked to do earlier. The pain receded, then doubled and pushed against his defenses with brutal force. The shields held as thoughts flooded his straining consciousness.

Anger still burned, stoked with the knowledge of cruel betrayal. _We've done so much for you, Archduke. And you finish us off like this. Such cowardice. You are afraid to be discovered? _

I will not give in.

His body was still functioning, and he could run. As he steeled himself to do what he would have to, Sendoh turned and caught his eye for a moment. And then, imperceptibly, he nodded.

__

Go.

With a snarl, Kogure pushed back at the probes with all his might, bursting them and shattering the pressure that threatened to envelop him. He didn't have much time; he could sense the mild surprise behind the already-rebuilding mental blasts. 

He ran.

@@@

Maki stood at the window, looking down onto the palace grounds below. It was a restless night. Unconsciously, he sighed softly.

__

To serve my king, my country…to live a life worthy as I deem it, with glory and honor and loyalty…

It wearied him, and yet it galvanized him. It gave him mission, and for that he supposed he was grateful. Better a mission fraught with dangers, for the good of the people, than a senseless existence.

An image of a tall woman, her skirts sweeping lightly the blades of the grass, and a half-smile upon her face entered his mind, unbidden, again. He growled to himself.

@@@

_We know no one, and no one knows us. There is only one place left._

He ran, unstopping, his feet making swift progress as the remnants of the mental blocks crumbled away. He ran until he could run no longer, and looked up to see a silhouette standing at the top of the guard tower.


	13. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

It was then that he saw the figure clothed in black, looking straight up at him. A slim silver chain was wound around its waist, and its posture was decidedly that of a fighting man. The moonlight flickered off his sword. Familiarity coursed through him like a rude awakening as his hand moved to his sword.

@@@

To his faint and wary surprise, the hooded figure was still standing in the same spot when he emerged from the gates. The figure held up its right hand, palm out. It was a gesture of civility. His suspicion increased, but he would hardly attack an unarmed opponent.

"Who are you?"

One hand reached up, and then almost hesitatingly, flung back the hood that shaded the face, pulling the veil off in the same time and letting the black cloth slip to the floor. Now, clearly, the sword and the markings on the chain identified him. Copper eyes stared at him, expressionless, across the distance that separated them.

_It's a Haka Assassin. But—it's not him._

"What do you want?"

The man moved closer, his hands still hanging loosely by his sides. It occurred to Maki that perhaps the Haka could fight barehanded too. He was on his guard, until the single word pierced his concentration and deflated it completely.

"Help."

It was the last thing he had ever expected to hear.

@@@

_Sendoh can't hold on much longer,_ Kogure thought, willing his face to remain impassive and his hands unclench. _What must I do to convince him?_

"Do you recall," he said instead, almost tranquilly, conversationally, "Do you recall my partner?" He saw the captain's eyes narrow as a flash of fire passed. Good. He remembered, all right.

"Yes, I do. Where is he?"

He ignored the question. "And do you, captain—" he moved forward, deliberately closing the distance between them. "—recall the peasant who took your attention so disastrously just earlier?"

Shock flared in the captain's face.

@@@

_Yes…so that's why…it was never a woman…that grace…that smile…I never caught sight of that peasant's eyes…if I had…it would have come to me so much sooner…_

He realized that the assassin had resumed speaking.

"We were betrayed," this was related in a cold, unrelated voice. Maki marveled at the detachment, when the words penetrated. And inexplicably, a sense of urgency overcame him. The way the assassin spat the word "betrayed"…it hinted of menace, of fighting…of death.

The other man was watching him closely. They were only so far apart, and Maki could see right into the dark eyes of the infamous killer. In them, he saw determination, a ruthless survival. And he knew that if he didn't agree, this one would go back to the other and fight.

_Cold blue eyes…lips twisted in a smile…what beauty…_

"I will go with you."

@@@

The branches and twigs of the clearing scratched at his face, tearing long rents in his skin and clothes. He felt like a hunted animal, sensed the approaching presence of his pursuers, hated them, almost smelling the tangible net that one of the enemy had cast to search for his awareness. The trail of his blood would lead them right to him. He had fought until he realized he would not win in a face-to-face combat, and that was when he had seen to flee. But how long could he run?

Now the sound of his heart pounding was getting louder, louder, and he realized distractedly that his breath was coming in torn, painful gasps.

_No! I won't stop and die like this._

He fled, the vines scraping his bare flesh as blood trickled painfully into his eyes. And with a last gasp, burst into yet another, smaller, clearing, straight at the feet of an armored soldier.


	14. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

He had wondered where his captain was going in the dead of the night. And intuition more than curiosity had made him follow. Now here he was, stumbling in the dark, cursing under his breath. His shoulder ached. He tried not to jostle that arm too much.

Rukawa looked up at the moon, and shuddered at her pale, pale face. And then he looked up as the sounds of swords clanged, not too far away from where he was, a glimmer of steel in the gloom.

@@@

Maki stifled the urge to draw his sword and strike at the figure as it emerged out of the darkness with uncontrolled, desperate speed. He could hear the band of soldiers shuffling behind him, wondering what they were doing out in the dark, in the cold, and longing to get the job over and done with. However, his thoughts were less than focused on that now.

The figure plowed through the last of the underbrush and then fell at his feet. For a moment he was too surprised to react, until he noticed who it was.

Black robes were slashed so badly that the man's entire upper body was left bare, but the amount of blood that streaked and wreathed his skin like a shroud was enough to make his eyes narrow. A slim bandage had been wound about his arm, but now all that was left were rags. Black hair spilled out onto the ground, encrusted with dark red liquid that had begun to pool. 

He dropped to his knees and lifted the wounded man, wincing at the rush of blood that dripped onto his wrist guards and armor even as he turned and nodded silently to the second-in-command of the troop to advance and attack.

And then he looked down, meeting a dazed blue gaze murky with pain. His heart clenched.

_It was you. It was you all along._

@@@

Kogure watched as the soldiers infiltrated the forests, and then his gaze shifted to the captain, who knelt there cradling the broken body. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a movement, and spun around.

In the distance, atop the low hill, two figures stood. Even through the black of night, he knew their malevolent nature, and he welcomed them, as though they were old friends. Berserk laughter welled up in his throat.

@@@

"We misssssed one," Ryota remarked as they glanced down. The men were combing the forests now, with torches that lit up the advantageous dark. Ryota, being a creature of the deep, was at a considerable disadvantage with fire combat, and neither him nor Mitsui had a liking to be seen, if only for the protection of their elusive reputation, and thus they had had to retreat. 

"He ssssslashed me a few timesssss. That rrrrridiculous chain. And they esssscaped, too. How infurrrriating."

Mitsui nodded absentmindedly in agreement, but a small smile spread out on his face. "It's all right," he murmured, looking down at a speck deep in the forest. "It's not over yet."

@@@

Rukawa had watched from the shadows as his captain had gone forward, but his gaze never wavered from the slim figure behind Maki even when another man burst out from the opposite end of the clearing.

He noted the upswept brows, the brown tousled locks that framed a strong face, and the hands most of all. He remembered these hands well, remembered the touch of the sword-callused skin on his flesh, and remembered the strength of those delicate fingers as they wrapped about his shoulder. And he was powerless to move, even when unseeing copper eyes turned in his direction.


	15. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

As the doors slid open softly to admit the man who stood there, head bowed slightly, the king dismissed the healers and maidservants with a nod, and they rose and flocked out, past the man in the doorway. The silence hung between them, before it grew tangibly heavy with every passing second. Rukawa spoke first.

"Did you know him? Was he your friend, captain?"

Maki raised his head, and met the king's eyes directly across the room. "I—" he looked away, "No. I don't know who he is."

The king smiled briefly, a small smile that traced his lips and then left swiftly even as he rose from the engraved seat and beckoned the captain into the room. "Well then, I will retire for my rest now, captain. I shall see you in the morning."

Maki dropped to one knee and kept his gaze on the floor as the king swept past him, regal even at this late hour, and his mind sharply noted the dirt smudges and the few small twigs on the hems of the inner coat. _Where has he been? _

He pushed the thoughts aside as the doors closed softly behind the king. He was alone. They were alone.

Walking forward, he let his hand fall from the hilt of his sword. When he reached the side of the large bed, he walked around it to occupy the seat that the king had just vacated. He kept his eyes trained forward, not daring to let his gaze land on the softly breathing man lying asleep on the sheets that smelt of herbs and medicine. After he had seated himself, he folded his hands in his lap, and looked down at them, willing himself not to think.

_Then what are you here for? You want to see him, don't you? And he's just right in front of you now!_

Slowly, hesitatingly, he lifted his eyes and to his shock, caught the equally intense gaze of deep blue eyes looking back at him.

@@@

The king kept walking, his feet silent in his well-soled slippers as he made his way down the corridor to his chambers. The palace was quiet; at this time of the night, all were asleep save those he had summoned to attend to the men. He turned the corner sharply, pulling his cloak closer to hold out the chill, and nodded slightly to the men standing guard by the heavy doors. They pushed it open and he entered, feeling the thorough weight of his new responsibilities falling on his shoulders. He looked down and fumbled at the clasp of his cloak, before untying the silk threads and letting the velvet fall from his shoulders.

He spun around at the intentional cough that came from the other end of his chamber, near the balcony. Trepidation filled him and he turned back, ready to call for help—

Before he could take a step, a shadow moved swiftly in front of him, and he stilled in shock, his eyes widening as coppery eyes blazed at him, before the light in them darkened and faded.

"I didn't come here tonight to kill you."

Rukawa stepped back automatically, before the words sank in. The thoughts flashed in his mind, running frantically as he tried to compose an answer. "Then what did you come here for?" he managed with dignity, his eyes never leaving the direct gaze of the other man. The man who, just nights ago, had tried to kill him. The man who, nights past, had haunted his dreams. Irritably, he pushed the latter images away and focused on the still figure before him.

Almost as if he were reading his thoughts, the assassin chuckled.


	16. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Kogure looked at the man in front of him. No, it was barely a man, a youth, this new king was. A remarkably collected one, but young nevertheless. He was attractive in a somber way, his features evenly aligned but darkened with the weight of his responsibilities. Now, his posture was apparently frozen in shock, because when Kogure stepped closer, he didn't flinch.

"What did you come here for?" the king repeated.

"You've been watching me."

He said it matter-of-factly, straight out and with a certainty that there was no room for denial. The first night, even when he had left the thinnest of scars on that smooth pale neck, he had sensed the gaze on him. Then, at the forest, when they had just barely rescued Sendoh, and he had watched them alone from the shadows, he had felt it again, but this time he could see it too. A slim figure detached from the rest of the darkness, barely a stone's throw away, looking at him.

He watched the king's expression carefully for any changes, but other than a flare of an emotion that passed so quickly he couldn't begin to define it, there was no alteration at all.

"Please leave. I would like to rest."

Kogure blinked, and then his eyes narrowed.

@@@

He gaped, if only in the mere shock, as a small smile played out on tired, tired features.

"Captain." The soft whisper penetrated Maki's consciousness as he shut his mouth with a snap and flinched so slightly that only the most trained of watchers could see it. Unfortunately for him this time, the one before him could, in fact, witness every tiny movement he made, because the smile dropped, and turned into a grimace.

"Are you in pain?" his rushed question was blurted out almost ungracefully as he leaned forward and pressed a palm to the forehead of the other man to check for temperature. An infection would mean a fever, and that meant serious trouble…but the assassin suddenly stopped thrashing. He quieted, but his breathing will still raspy and heavy, and his gaze suddenly flickered to the touch on his brow.

@@@

When Maki noticed where his hand was placed, a rush of uncomfortably feigned disinterest set in, and he snatched his hand away as if it were burned.

"No, I'm all right."

So much for confirmation, then. His voice, low and tinged with pain, was still distinctly the same voice of the peasant woman. _And his smile…_

"It was me."

There then, at least, was an admission. Odd how it seemed the man could read his thoughts. He looked away for a moment as the wounded assassin continued to look at him with those startling eyes, dark blue and clouded with uncertainty, medication and raw steel. This one then, was his adversary, his challenge and his attraction. He reached forward and, hesitating, dropped his palm down on the pale hand that twitched in surprise.

"I know," he answered. 

Slowly, fingers closed over his own.


	17. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

_Who died and made you king?_ Kogure almost chuckled aloud at the pitiful pun, but faced down the man in front of him thoughtfully instead. "Why were you watching me?"

The king's own glare narrowed. "I was—"

"You have an oath of faithful honesty as king, don't you?" he stepped closer, noting that the younger man's hands were trembling slightly as he backed away as far as he could before hitting the wall. Abruptly, his fists clenched.

"I'm going to call the guards in if you don't leave."

There it was again, that kingly tone, that voice which was used to complete and absolute obedience. It had probably been instilled in him from the moment he was born. Not that he cared very much for it. He moved forward swiftly and pinned the king to the wall with one hand on the slim shoulder.

"Will you?" he asked, tilting his head conversationally and raising an eyebrow. Getting no response, he sighed.

"You said you wouldn't touch me."

He growled. "I never said that. I said I wouldn't kill you."

The king was nervous, he could see that. What did he have to be afraid for? Surely he knew that as long as Sendoh was injured, he would not do anything? Yet he was frightened, and unusually so, for that matter. It probably had to do with the subject, so he decided to try again.

"I asked you why you were watching me."

He breathed softly and evenly, watching as the ebony tendrils dipped over the king's eyes as the latter looked at the ground. What was going on? He didn't like not knowing, and with gut instinct that had never failed him, he knew that whatever was the matter had something to do with the Haka Assassins being present in the royal palace. More so than rightfully required.

Perhaps he had been a patient person, back in another lifetime, because they stood there, as if a tableau, silently, for a good while, him waiting, the other quiet. Strangely, he felt none of the bloodlust that came with a helpless living being, none of the uncontrolled impatience that over-often took over his lucid mind for those few fatal moments. _If anything, I rather enjoy this peace…I must be going mad._ How long had he been standing there?

The king looked up.

"I'm attracted to you."

Whatever the assassin had expected, it was not this. And whatever reply Kogure might have formed, died on his lips.

@@@

In the shadows below, two figures crouched, watching the silhouettes behind the curtains intently.

@@@

Rukawa was not usually at a loss for words, even though he rarely found an occasion to speak. This was not an exception, and his courage didn't falter even though the face of a killer before him remained mostly expressionless.

_I'm telling you and I don't care about what happens next,_ he thought viciously, surprising even himself with his inner vehemence. _I'm telling you…_

"I'm attracted to you," he repeated, and, hesitating the barest of moments, stepped forward against the arm pinning him to the wall, closer to the man that had captured his heart. "Can you accept that?"

_And I don't even know your name._

The weight on his arm pulled away abruptly even before he could blink, and he held his ground as brown eyes, quick, searching and shocked, stared wordlessly back at him. It was gone in an instant, as the veil of pure ice slipped over his veneer, and a single syllable was spoken, soft yet painfully loud as it rang in the air between them.

"No."

Rukawa stood there in the shadows. Even long after the other man had slipped away, he remained, alone, silent in his chambers.


	18. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

[Three days later]

Maki hurried along the rough stones of the outer courtyard, looking up at the gathering rain clouds. Already, tears from the skies dotted the ground, and the chilly wind that had swept into the palace grounds was if anything proof of the impending storm. As he passed by the kitchen, he looked in and saw, across the room, on the opposite side facing the side gardens, a profile he had come to know as familiar.

_Kogure. That's his name, isn't it? _

He had never spoken to the man since the night he had come and called for help. 

_No. You were too busy with Sendoh._

Against his outwardly calm and detached demeanor, a flush darkened his skin. He was an esteemed captain of the king, a renowned swordsman, a proven general, but above all a man. And he knew he was of the sort who could tell his emotions frankly. He shifted his attention back from its inward focus to the slender man sitting casually, propped up against one of the large towering pillars that held the structure of the Garden Wing. 

Sendoh spoke of Kogure like a brother. A dear friend. Yet everything about the older assassin spoke of coldness and death, of silence and foreboding. Even as he watched, Kogure shifted his gaze sharply and glanced out at the garden, looking at something that was there where it hadn't been a moment ago. 

Shaking his head slightly, Maki resumed on his way, his fingers lightly grasping at the object he held wrapped in yellow paper as he strode towards the main courtyard.

@@@

Kogure relaxed and shifted his fingers almost imperceptibly from his blades when he saw whom it was that stood on the threshold of the small gate.

"Kogure?" Sendoh called.

He got up smoothly in one fluid motion, the chain jingling slightly on his hip as he stepped down from the low platform where he had been sitting, landing softly on the grass. As he walked to the shaded corner of the garden where Sendoh stood, he unobtrusively surveyed his partner.

He had certainly healed well. The cuts and bruises had faded so that he could barely see them in the shadows of the cool evening, just the faintest lines of blue under the skin. He was wearing his black robes, but something seemed to be missing. _What is it?_

He had almost reached Sendoh now, but even as he took the one step that blocked view of his body from the main kitchen, an ominous feeling of dread and mistake shrouded him. In that split second, a mental weight bore down upon his being, rendering his fingers numb even as he tried to reach for the blade at his side.

_The chain. The Haka chain._

It wasn't there.

@@@

Sendoh lay quietly on the bed, breathing evenly and closing the meditation exercise just as the door swung open gently. He propped himself up carefully, blocking out the pain of the healing scar that slashed from his shoulder to his hip, and turned his head.

"Captain."

Maki laughed easily, a low baritone that echoed around the room and rang pleasantly in the younger man's ears. "I've told you not to call me that." He moved closer and sat down at the chair that had been placed beside the bed, before raising his eyes and looking the assassin over.

"Does it still hurt?"

Sendoh smiled softly, looking away. "Healing always does."

A hand gently cupped his chin, turning his face up. "I still think you're beautiful, if that helps."

Laughter rippled through the room.

@@@

The realization hit him even as an invisible force wrapped about his body, crushing his arms to his sides painfully.

_This isn't Sendoh._


	19. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Even as he watched, the man who stood before him laughed, a merry smile of cheer, as pale skin was swallowed by a sheet of glowing blue, the brilliant color blending and growing in the darkness, before hardening into a smooth coat of glinting scales. The scales emerged like wildfire, blazing down from the chest to the feet, which were suddenly bare, and up the neck, winding up the fine veins that pulsed with an inhuman light and patterning the skin like a painting. This close, he could see the gills that opened up at the side of the pale blue neck, the delicate lines of the fins that were embroidered along the long, silvery arms. 

__

This is the one who was sent to kill us. But no, it is not a beast.

This is a creature of darkness.

@@@

Seeing Sendoh smile, Maki turned and picked up the package from where he had left it earlier, on the side table.

"Here." Trying not to seem too awkward, he held the gift out.

The younger man cocked his head and grinned at him. "For me, Captain?"

He flushed, half with annoyance at the title, but mostly from a warmth that ran through his body with the ease of speech they had with each other. "I believe so."

Sendoh reached over and took the package, the paper crinkling and rustling as he brought it onto his lap and stared at it for a moment, leaving it unopened. Then he looked up.

"What is this really for, Captain?" 

@@@

__

A demon of shape-changing. He had not expected anything like this, not when he had seen it rip Sendoh apart, not even when it had looked at him and snarled, its blood-red eyes glistening with tears of greed. _Like the Were-Kin of legend…they who can mask themselves so into the image of a loved one or an enemy, a leader or a fool…_

When he had returned to the palace, he had dismissed the mental chains he had been nearly dragged under by as a result of a drug, one that had been wafted through the air, claiming his senses. He had been wrong.

__

So it is true. The Archduke has the living of myths in his army. He has sent them to kill those who no mortal could defeat. The Haka Assassins. Us. 

Me. 

From the darkness, a taller figure emerged, hooded. Kogure kept his eyes fiercely closed, struggling against the unphysical bonds that his mind raged against, the burning that he remembered from before. Only now, alone, it seemed unparalleled, as he gritted his teeth and the first blast broke against his will. 

@@@

The direct question caught him off his guard, and in that instant he couldn't think of an answer, but Sendoh looked back down at the unopened gift and continued speaking, softer this time.

"We've faced each other down with swords to our hearts. I've lied to you, made use of you. And above all…I am a killer, Captain." His voice was plain, tired, his tone harsh and frank. "Why do you play around with your words and actions like this? Why are you being so nice to me?" His gaze rose, and this time, as he pinned Maki with his stare, the captain could see the ruthless, disciplined, and coldly detached eyes of the assassin behind the smiling mask. 

And he hated it. He didn't want to be shut out. Not now—_and_—his mind suddenly established, _not ever._ He answered the only way his instincts told him to. 

Moving rashly, and before common sense could kick in and deter him, Maki, Captain of the Prince's Guard, leant over and kissed the Haka assassin lightly.


	20. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Rukawa slipped out of the kitchen gates as quietly as he could, slouching and pulling the thick brown cloak closer about him as his footsteps hurried down the marbled platform before landing, with a quiet impact, on the soft ground.

The memory of the moment, days ago, still burned into his mind like embers on bare skin. 

But he couldn't give him up.

For inexplicable reasons, Rukawa remained attracted to the Haka assassin. He had been directly rejected, but for the first time as a king, it did not bother him as much as inflame him. 

He needed to see him again. Talk to him. Needed to, because his confession, though it had hurt, had ended up changing nothing at all. With resolution, he headed towards the corner of the garden where he had seen the coppery-haired man disappear into a few moments earlier.

@@@

Maki pulled back, logic warring crazily with heart-thumping exhilaration and something that felt too close to fear for comfort. But as he drew away, slim, loosely bandaged hands reached up and curved lightly, softly around his body.

@@@

Even as he battled against the mage, Kogure had forgotten about the other physical presence that stood in front of him. As he clenched his jaw unnoticeably, controlled, a weight slammed into him from the side and caught by surprise, he faltered, crashing to the ground. As he fell, his hand automatically fell to his side and loosened the chain, years of practice and battles of bloodshed making him unsnap the clasp, and hurl the dangerous metal through the air wildly, before his shoulder came into contact with the ground and he yanked back. 

He heard a howl of pain, an inhuman screech as scalding black blood spilled on him, soaking through the material of his robes and burning into his skin as the blades on the chain flashed back, dull with success. The pressure of the probes on his mind intensified, until he felt like screaming, but he held it back, climbing to his feet swiftly and struggling to maintain himself. 

Bloodlust began to course through his veins. A small smile tipped his lips. He would get rid of one and then the other. With that thought, he turned back to the creature, torn from the shoulder to forearm, the creature that growled and hissed at him. And then he lashed out with the chain again, spinning it with all the skill and sense that he had acquired ever since he had trained to become a fighter. The creature ducked, but the very end spike of the chains caught him again, this time in the chest, slashing a semi-deep wound before it retracted. He closed himself to the pain that was building up, the blinding weight that threatened to crush his skull, and focused with dim determination on the creature as it lunged. This time, it avoided the chains, and he heard more than felt a sharp ripping as razor claws sliced into his body. Crimson splashed in the deathly quiet. 

The force pummeling into his mind intensified, and he bit his lip hard, choking on the blood that filled his mouth. And then blinding heat flamed into his consciousness. 

@@@

Rukawa reached the small gates that blocked off the main garden, and climbed nimbly over it, turning the corner that was hidden from view by the tall trees. It was silent in the evening, other than a sudden strange hissing…as he spun around, what he saw froze him.

A sudden burst of light from the shadows of the clearing jolted him back from paralysis as he saw it strike the wounded Haka assassin in the middle of the triangle that he now formed with the intruders. And if anything, the pain and devastation rang louder in the stillness because the man made no sound.

A second ball of energy grew as a slim, glinting blue creature circled the man at a safe distance. Horror filled him. 

_He's going to die._

Without thinking, Rukawa plunged forward, past the safety of the darkness that had been shielding him, and in front of the Haka assassin, just as the burst of crackling energy was hurtled their way.


	21. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

As the force hit his body, Rukawa was flung back, against the body of the Haka assassin. He felt hot liquid coursing down his back, his chest, his arms, and every single part of his body felt as though it was on fire. The pain was unbearable, splitting him apart. 

He threw back his head and screamed.

@@@

This time, it was Sendoh who broke the kiss, gasping a little for breath as he turned slightly away. He gently tugged Maki down, and the captain carefully sat on the side of the bed, wary not to jostle the recovering man.

A comfortable silence stretched between them as Maki sat there, one arm tentatively, protectively, around the younger man who laid his head on the broad shoulder that encompassed him in a warm embrace. 

That was when then they heard the scream.

_The king!_ Maki reacted unthinkingly. He rose and was about to break into a run when an iron grip circled his wrist. He looked down, at dark blue eyes that were suddenly blank, a deliberate mask that slipped only too easily over the warmth of a moment before. He said one word.

"Kogure."

Maki nodded as Sendoh released him. He raced out of the room, flying towards the courtyard, as the people below began to swirl about in confusion. By the time his feet landed on the grass, the palace servants were a general mass of whispered questions and mild chaos. 

_Where did it come from, where did it come from—_

Kogure. Sendoh had said Kogure. Why? 

Where had he last seen Kogure? He had seen him…he had seen him at the side court, outside of the kitchens. 

Maki took off at a run.

@@@

Sendoh's knuckles were white as he rose and dressed as quickly as his injuries allowed. Snarling inwardly, he kept the pain and ache away as he moved silently to the door, opening it and slipping out.

_Kogure._

The others—those monsters—which the Archduke had sent, would not have given up so easily. He had only a small inkling of what this had to do with the king, but he was not going to sit back like an invalid. He snapped the chain close about his waist as he headed for the steps.

_Kiminobu…hold on. Wait for me._

@@@ 

Something soft and warm pushed against his body, and a bloodcurdling, inhuman scream of anguish and pain filled his ears with a roaring sound. Kogure forced open his eyes, his hand clenching the chain so hard that it left an imprint on his palm. And then he saw him.

_The king…it's the king._

His mind refused to make sense of it.

Dark red blood was spilling from the side of delicate lips that gasped for breath, limbs had slackened and weakened. Mechanically, he supported the weight, letting it softly to the ground. 

He could feel his mind beginning to break under that continuous pressure, feel the wind of the creature as it leapt up and prepared to sink its claws and teeth into his flesh to tear him apart. 

Kogure staggered as he willed his mental shields to hold on, pulling them together and blocking the intense torture that crushed his head. _Any moment now…any moment now…_

He spun and let the chain loose. It sang out across the air, a flash of steel that spun and swept eerily through the air, almost as if in slow motion, into the direct path of the oncoming creature that, too late, tried to twist aside. 

Cold metal buried itself into soft, unprotected flesh, and with pure coldness, Kogure twisted it expertly, and with a shift in his wrist, yanked it back. Just as the mental thrust surged savagely, triumphantly into his mind like a dagger.

He could hear the creature roar in pain, blinded as it thrashed on the ground, but it grew more distant, muffled and then suddenly all was quiet. 

The chain slipped from Kogure's fingers as he fell.


	22. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

The group of men who made up the King's Guard headed towards the side courts, silent in their urgency, their steps swift. As Maki, leading, approached the garden, leaping down from the platform with ease, he heard a plaintive, animalistic growl break the silence, and his heart leapt into his throat. He prayed the king was still alive. 

His footsteps pounded the soft grass of the compound as he raced towards the small gates and jumped over it, his hand at the same time going to the hilt of the sword and drawing it from the simple scabbard with a soft clink of metal on metal. 

The king lay in a spreading circle of dark red, his eyes open and unseeing in shock, the hood from a stained brown cloak thrown back against the flattened grass. Kogure lay limply half-atop the prone body, unmoving and his eyes closed, a slim silver chain patterned with rivulets of blood lying a short way away from his right hand.

Dangerously close to them, a being of ghastly skin and body screamed again, a low wailing that pierced the ears and made a number of men tighten their grips on their swords in a controlled attempt not to cover their heads. It was injured, tottering clumsily, its claws held to its eyes.

He lifted his hand and signaled, and then men surged forward, surrounding the creature and plunging their swords into its flesh with great effort, as brilliant blue scales glowed and snapped with sickening cracks. Maki hurried to the middle of the clearing, and was about to turn and yell for help when he felt himself frozen in place.

__

You…

The voice in his head was slyly cool and confident, and sounded almost amused. _You again…_

I don't like you very much.

Blinding pain exploded in his vision in white spots and numbing fury.

__

Might as well get rid of you, too. I already got two birds with one stone…there is another I have to finish after this, but I suppose you would be an inconvenience either way, so I should just crush you now, I think?

The men were occupied with the beast, calling for help from the palace soldiers, so that no one noticed as the captain keeled over in agony. The mental pressure increased, too painful for him even to scream, to move.

And suddenly it was gone. Completely and utterly removed.

@@@

Mitsui whirled, too late, as the dagger sank into his heart. The younger of the Haka assassins was breathing hard with the effort and trying not to collapse as the old wounds were torn open, trailing red down the hand that released the hilt of the dagger. He had caught the magic-master unawares, coming up behind him. 

A cruel smile blossomed on the mage's face as he yanked the blade out of his chest and gasped for air, using the last of his ebbing magic to reach out and crush Sendoh to his body.

__

Making it easier for me, Haka? 

I'm taking you down with me. 

He sank the dagger to the hilt into the other man's chest and murmured a spell. 

@@@

At the soft gasp that penetrated the dark, Maki's blood grew cold. 

__

That sounds like…oh no…oh no, Sendoh…

His fingers tightened on his sword as he rose, looking about, desperately trying to see past the shadows that obscured his view. As he took a step forward, a sudden flash of color blazed, hot and smoldering, burning sparkling embers against the night. Two figures stood, clasped to each other in the middle of that unholy and inhuman fire.

The shorter of the two figures threw back its head and laughed, a bone-chilling, cold laugh that made the unnatural maelstrom hiss as it swept up the fallen leaves, feeding the inferno with crackling tinder. The laugh was triumphant, a crowing of defiance and pleasure, cruel and sadistic. 

"NO!!!!" Maki screamed, his eyes scorched shut by the proximity of the dark magic, his skin scalded as he beat futilely at the energy force that shut him out and away. "NO!!!!!!"


	23. Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One

Sendoh gasped as he felt his life's blood draining away, soaking his robes. He was vaguely aware that outside the unbearable noise, the high laughter, was a voice that was crying, screaming, pleading and begging. The world started to grow cold, as poison concocted from Mitsui's words sank into his flesh through the blade, a burning, acid warmth that melted him from the inside, consuming the core of his being. 

He sensed the dry gurgle and cold, cold happiness as the voice invaded his mind. _I'll take them all down with me, Sendoh. You can be with your beloved captain now. _

He felt a flare of shock, but Mitsui continued, his hands still clawing at the Haka assassin with an iron grip. _Oh yes, Haka. I stole thoughts in your head, read your mind, just as I read Kogure Kiminobu's, just as I read the captain's, and the king's. So open and easily forgetful of danger, so innocent, all of you. _

Maki. Sendoh felt a ache in his heart that had nothing to do with the venom spreading through his veins. Would Maki have to die, too?

He gathered his strength, and looked down at the magic-master, whose eyes were closed in a final effort to destroy. And he felt it, the small package that pressed painfully against his hip. It was the gift. 

Maki's gift. 

Sendoh reached numbly for it, his fingers clumsily fumbling with the paper, which had singed and was crackling under the fire that bathed them both. His hands met cool metal. A blade. The captain had given him a dagger. 

At any other time, he would have laughed at the irony of it all. He finally realized that the crying that banged on the remnants of his shredded consciousness belonged to the man whom he had unknowingly given his heart to since that day he, as a Haka assassin, had been for the first time unveiled by another man's sword.

He yanked the blade out of its casing, feeling sticky liquid on his hands as he twisted the dagger slowly and brought it up, straining against and struggling with Mitsui's grasp and fighting the urge to pass out. The heady feeling had spread to his head, fogging his senses, making the world roar in a silent canvas of blinding color. 

With a scream at the agony that accompanied the action, he sank the blade into Mitsui's arm, slashing violently, as the magic-master's eyes snapped open in shock and pain. His arm torn off, Mitsui staggered back and fell to the ground, staring wide, wide, and unseeing with the blood that gushed out of his body in a crimson river of death. 

Sendoh could feel the world spinning as the dagger slipped from his fingers, swirling and rushing up to meet him. The maelstrom faded to quiet, and a soothing breeze slid gently over his face as he collapsed.

@@@

The guards watched silently as the captain of the Prince's Guard fell to his knees beside the broken body, reaching out with disbelieving arms to cradle and hold the dying man.

_No._

His mind refused to accept it, even if the hot tears that threatened to spill from his eyes told another story. He looked down at Sendoh, and tightened the embrace, pulling him closer.

"Why did you do it?" he asked harshly, his voice raw and choked. "Why couldn't you just stay where you should have stayed—"

A trembling hand rose barely enough to touch his lips, just a ghost of the callused skin on fingertips that passed with a fleeting smile on the pale face. 

"I…I…had…to…"

With soft but audible crackling, brackish green flames lit from within snaked out, racing through veins outlined beneath the skin with cold silver light, before enveloping and devouring the Haka assassin.

_No._

His hands encountered empty air, the scattered black ashes blown carelessly against him by the unforgiving wind. 

He bowed his head and screamed inwardly, torn between wanting to rage and lose his reason, or give in the sudden hollow emptiness that filled his heart like a gaping black hole. 

And a single glint of moisture shone on his cheek in the moonlight, as Maki cried.


	24. Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Two

[A year later]

Servant boys and kitchen womenfolk hurried in and out of the great dining hall, carrying wine and huge, topped plates of roast boar and greens. The lords and war-bands of the various demesnes crowded into their seats, toasting the day's victory and laughing boisterously. 

It had been a great battle against the invading bandits who plagued the border, and the men were more than glad that it was over. He reflected that this day, a year ago, had probably been the day that he had truly become a king.

As he took the last remaining steps towards the dining hall, a pageboy hurried forward and pushed open the door. It seemed as though for a moment, time stood still. He stood framed in the doorway, looking over the people he had sworn to serve in kingship, really looking at those who had fought for him, and alongside him. 

A mighty cheer greeted his presence, as he entered and walked to his seat at the head of the center table.

*Flashback

Rukawa sat, his back to the door, his frame straight and his self collected, even when the door whispered open and he felt someone walk slowly to him, to stand just behind him.

"The Archduke was our lord." The whisper was soft, slightly hoarse from the recent and tenuous recovery, but Rukawa could hear it clearly nonetheless. 

Before he could think of what to say in reply, he sensed the other moving away, leaving, and finally snapped out of his self-imposed façade of calmness, twisting around and reaching out just in time to snag the end of the silent silver chain that hung by the side of the slim hip.

Kogure stilled, but he still refused to look at Rukawa. "What do you want?"

He sounded so tired, so weary, that the king felt his heart go out to him in his pain. It had been nearly a full month since Sendoh had passed on, but Rukawa had witnessed only all too clearly the grief and agony in the copper eyes the day when Kogure had awoken. He had asked no questions, only looked at Maki and the captain's bland and evasive gaze had been all the answer the remaining Haka assassin had needed. Rukawa had found him, barely able to stand from the extent of his injuries, half-deaf and blinded by unshed tears, on the ground where his friend and partner had been killed.

_How can I answer him?_ Rukawa wondered, rising and, hesitating, walking over to face Kogure. _I don't know what exactly it is either…_

"Will you stay here?" he asked finally.

*End of Flashback

He looked around the table, and noticed that Maki wasn't there. Pasting a slight smile on his face for the sake of his men, he stood and raised his silver glass, toasting those who had contributed to the battle.

*Flashback

When Kogure finally spoke, his voice was low. 

"What is there to stay for?"

Rukawa bowed his head. He closed his eyes and prayed that he would remain calm. _I can never win this man over,_ he realized, _He's been too cold, too long, shutting everyone out so well; it's become his habit. He'll never respond to anything I can and would do for him, or feel anything he doesn't want to feel._

He felt Kogure sigh softly and shift his weight slightly, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat before it revealed itself as a sign of weakness. "I understand," he replied evenly, keeping his composure and his voice level.

There was a soft jingle of metal as the Haka assassin suddenly turned and stepped close, one hand reaching out to gently lift Rukawa's chin. The king jerked away and willed the candlelight not to flicker on the moisture that threatened to spill from his eyes.

"Rukawa."

Before he could move away, Kogure was there again, in front of him, pushing the black bangs off his brow. Swiftly, the assassin leaned in and pressed his lips, lightly, to the king's forehead.

"My liege."

And the next moment, he was gone. Left, just like that. 

@@@

The king's army arrested the Archduke and his clan the next day. Hanamichi Sakuragi was sentenced to death, while his womenfolk and children were banished to the border.

*End of Flashback


	25. Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three

Maki sat outside, his hands rested on his knees as he leaned slightly against one of the old oak trees that graced the sprawling gardens. His gaze was fixed on the small, vibrant blades of grass that were colored a fresh green from the recent rain, when suddenly, a pair of feet stepped into his vision. 

He jerked upright immediately, looking up and almost wishing he could stab whoever was disturbing his rare and momentary sanctuary, when he saw whom it was. And for once, he didn't need to say anything.

Longish, mahogany hair had been trimmed to a neat soldier's cut, just ruffling the edges of the ears and touching the top of the smooth brow where a black scrap of cloth held back a slightly mussed fringe. Beneath the headband, identical eyes, coppery and opaque, took him in for a long, single moment.

Then the former assassin stepped forward smoothly and with an eerie and silent grace, he took the makeshift seat next to the captain.

They sat there a long time, while Maki looked him over. He wore the plain silver mail of an honest fighting man now, and the scars that his body bore were now clothed in the ordinary clothes of a civilian. There was something radically different about Kogure, and yet the man still maintained an essentially trademark, almost eerie, composure.

He hadn't seen Kogure after the accident, and when he had thought he managed to collect himself enough to do what he had to do, the Haka assassin had already left the palace. Somehow, Maki knew, with a stab of clarity that defied logic, what Kogure was back for. 

He slowly lifted his hand and slipped a small key out from the base of the wrist-guard, before reaching down and picking up the scabbard that had begun to hang faithfully by his waist since a year ago. An empty scabbard, to hold the memory of the accident, a reminder to never allow such a thing to happen again, that was what everyone thought. 

There was something else, though. Something else, that had been kept hidden. 

Maki twisted the metal in the small, side lock, and it snapped open. He wordlessly tipped the contents of the scabbard out onto his palm. 

In the sunlight, the coils of the Haka chain gleamed and sparkled, the rays reflecting off the infinitely sharp blades, the interwoven metal that was spun and wound together. He looked at the ground for a moment. 

Then he carefully leant over and placed the precious chain in the other man's lax, slightly open palms, before rising. Maki waited, to see if Kogure would say anything, but when the silence dragged on, he slipped away.

@@@

Rukawa scanned the crowd again, feeling the sheer heat press upon him like a stifling wave. Tired of holding up the façade, he stood quickly, smiling again at the men who immediately made way. He bowed slightly, and after setting the silver glass down, headed straight for the door.

A few of the lords made to go after him, but he lifted a hand, and didn't turn back when he spoke. "I am tired and need my rest. Do you go and celebrate in the great hall, and I will see you when I divide the border land tomorrow." 

As he hurried through the corridors, already sliding the heavy cloak from his shoulders and slinging it over one arm, loosening the neck of his official robes slightly, he felt grateful for the solitude. Everyone would be celebrating this night, for sure. Finally, he would have a moment away from the crowd, to himself.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he stopped and tensed immediately. Hadn't he told them not to follow him? He was hardly in the state of mind, nor the state of dress, to speak with the lords right now. Rukawa exhaled and his grip tightened on the cloak, before he spun around, the diplomatic words that were nothing short of a command on his lips, but they died in the shadows of the dim light that the moon cast on the face before him.


	26. Epilogue

Epilogue

He could feel his knees suddenly weakening, as one coherent thought flashed through his mind.

_You came back._

Copper eyes stared at him steadily from across the distance that separated them, but he felt closer, so much closer…before realizing abruptly that it wasn't just his imagination. The cloak slipped from Rukawa's fingers, pooling in a heap of velvet on the ground, as Kogure stepped towards him so that only an arm's breadth of space lay between them.

Without warning, the king was pulled suddenly into a slightly awkward embrace. Emotions rushed through his body like hot fire, conspiring with his awareness that was threatening to melt under the onslaught of silent touch.

Not that he minded. 

@@@

Maki melted back into the shadows of the long hall as Kogure moved forward. As he hurried down the corridor, and away from the pair, he felt a small smile and a silent well-wishing of encouragement linger on his lips, as well as a slight prickling behind his eyelids that told him to find a private place. And soon, to ensure that he wouldn't be embarrassed in front of anyone.

With that thought in mind, he turned the corner sharply, blindly, pausing as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the garden. And then he realized where he was.

This was the place he had all but pushed to the back of his head, the one place where his heart desperately sought to forget, where his mind stubbornly refused to acknowledge. Because it was where a memory, of a distant recollection, had given up, had been forsaken.

_Sendoh…_

Collecting himself briefly, he hesitated, then stepped down the platform, and, his footsteps tentative, into the garden. He carefully avoided the spot that, to his eyes, still seemed to bleed with crimson blood, blood that didn't belong to him. 

The moonlight was truly beautiful this night. Unhindered by wisps of clouds or the traces of rain, she shone brightly, compellingly, lending illumination to the garden that suddenly seemed to whisper with the ghosts of the pasts. He turned his face up, basking in that ethereal glow, praying it would wash his soul clean of self-torture, and the endless possibilities of what might have been different.

"You never belonged to me," he said aloud to the empty garden, but even to him, his voice sounded hollow. He thought of the chain, shining and sparkling as he put it into Kogure's hands. It had not belonged to him either. 

_You're a Haka assassin. You came, and you left, just like that…but not without changing me, Sendoh._

"Not without changing me."

The whisper echoed in his mind.

The End


End file.
